


We Can Settle Our Bones Together

by LadyLade



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 14:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4709861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLade/pseuds/LadyLade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>…Goddamnit. The things Derek does for pack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Can Settle Our Bones Together

**Author's Note:**

> Teen Wolf kink meme prompt: In their werewolf community, Derek is newly appointed Alpha and Stiles is the rebellious pup that actively and continuously disobeys him. (Original is [here](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/2069.html?thread=1133077#t1133077). Livejournal post is [here](http://ladylade.livejournal.com/12140.html).)

_This_ , Derek thinks, _is a bad idea_.

It’s a really, _really_ bad idea. He must have been temporarily insane when he decided on this.

“He’ll be right down,” the Sheriff says, and Derek nods from his seat on the couch.

Derek has only been Alpha for two months. Beacon Hills is a kind of sanctuary for werewolves, the secret that everyone keeps. Although most of the town is human, either because their families are human or because of a quirk of genetics the wolf skipped a generation, there are still about forty werewolves. Derek presides over them all, almost like a chieftain presiding over family units. Everyone runs their family, their pack, their own way, but Derek is the ultimate pack leader and has the ultimate say.

And Derek has said that Stiles, the most wayward pup in the _entire_ community, will live with him to learn some fucking control.

_Bad. Idea_ , Derek tells himself firmly. This is especially true since Stiles’ father, _the Sheriff_ , is human.

It’s a weird situation. Derek has reign over the wolves, but the Sheriff has made it abundantly clear that any crime is his jurisdiction. This does not exclude anything that Derek might do, which Derek agrees with, but the power play makes him uneasy.

And Derek knows that the Sheriff has a shotgun, and he probably has no qualms about using it.

Derek hears Stiles before he even hits the stairs; the boy sounds like he’s built like a Viking, even though he’s teenage-gangly and just a bit shorter than Derek. Derek hadn’t even known that it was possible for werewolves to make that much noise.

“Hey…Derek,” Stiles says awkwardly from the bottom of the stairs, and Derek had forgotten how _human_ Stiles acts. He doesn’t avert his eyes or bare his throat, but he also doesn’t try to challenge Derek either. He just fidgets, holding two duffle bags and his backpack.

“Stiles,” Derek says.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid_ , he thinks.

“Got everything, Stiles?” the Sheriff asks. He moves more quietly than Stiles.

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles waves him off. “I’ve got all my clothes and my books. The grocery lists are on the kitchen counter.”

“Stay out of trouble,” the Sheriff warns.

“Stay out of fast food restaurants,” Stiles says.

>>> 

“You’re car is _bitchin_ ’,” Stiles says. “When did you get it?”

“I won it in a poker match,” Derek says.

“Since I actually can’t tell if you did or not from that face you’ve got going on, I’m going to believe you,” Stiles says.

Derek pretends to check traffic coming from the left to hide his grin.

>>> 

“Your house is _huge_ ,” Stiles says.

“The entire Hale pack used to live here,” Derek points out. “We’ve spread out since then.”

The Hales are spread out farther than ever before; Derek is the only one left in Beacon Hills. Derek hates his house; it might as well have been burned down, as empty as it is.

“Huh,” Stiles says. “Awesome, because I kind of expected to be sleeping in the woods or something.”

Derek rolls his eyes, and then he shows Stiles to his room.

>>> 

When Derek finds out how much Adderall Stiles is taking, he puts his foot down. Stiles has to half the dosage each day for a week, and then he’s going cold turkey and getting off that shit. It may help Stiles focus, but with the metabolism werewolves have, the amount of Adderall he’s taking is probably damaging his system, and with the constant dosages his body probably can’t heal itself.

This may blow up in Derek’s face. He’ll find out soon.

>>> 

“Why couldn’t I bring my jeep?” Stiles says.

“If you need to go anywhere, I’ll take you,” Derek says.

“I’m really not Team Edward,” Stiles says.

Derek frowns. What the hell is Team Edward?

>>> 

Training does not start off well. Since Stiles has a habit of getting into places he’s not supposed to (like crime scenes) and doing things he’s not supposed to (like destroying the Chem teacher’s mailbox with acid), Derek figures that Stiles needs to learn to control his wolf’s impulses, so he sends him out into the woods.

It doesn’t go as planned.

“Do you even understand what you’re supposed to be doing?” Derek says, because he asked Stiles to track a rabbit and Stiles came back with someone’s old _moonshine bottle_.

“Yes?” Stiles says.

From the look on Stiles’ face, Stiles knows that Derek doesn’t believe him.

“It’s just a focus thing,” Stiles says. “Like, I’ll be tracking a rabbit’s scent and then my ADD starts tracking _all_ the scents and suddenly I’m digging up a really awesome glass bottle. Hey, do you think they just added sugar to rubbing alcohol and said it was drinkable?”

Derek glares at Stiles because: a) now he’s been proven completely wrong about Stiles, b) he needs to rethink his training program, and c) Stiles is probably right about the moonshine. He’ll have to change tactics.

…Goddamnit. The things Derek does for pack.

“Do you want to be the hider or the seeker first?” Derek says.

Stiles stares at him as if Derek’s transformed into a pretty, pretty pony or something equally as strange and horrifying.

“I think I’m hearing things,” Stiles finally says. “Did you actually just speak.”

“Hider then,” Derek says. “You’ve got to the count of fifty. I’d get moving if I were you.”

Stiles is still staring.

“One,” Derek says, and Stiles jumps, falls on his ass, and then bolts.

Derek can’t suppress his grin, and thinks about just going back to the house and letting Stiles run around the woods until he realizes that Derek has played him. But Stiles hasn’t _actually_ annoyed him that much, so Derek sighs, counts to fifty, and then takes off to find Stiles.

>>> 

Hide and seek (which, really, is just Derek and Stiles tracking each other around Derek’s property) goes surprisingly well. Stiles is clever, very clever, and even has Derek tracking a false trail for five minutes before he realizes that he took the wrong fork in Stiles’ scent. Derek’s wolf is _ridiculously_ pleased with Stiles, with having such a smart pup in his pack.

So it isn’t that Stiles is stupid, or bored, or angry, or can’t control his wolf and is causing trouble on purpose (well most of the time he isn’t). Stiles’ impulse control is practically not there, and he has the curiosity of a toddler, so now Derek has to figure out how to deal with a _human_ problem when he originally assumed it was a _wolf_ thing.

_Bad. Fucking. Idea_ , Derek thinks.

“Holy shit, how many books do you _own?_ ” Stiles says from the library.

Derek sighs, prays for patience, and goes to the library to corral Stiles before he breaks something.

>>> 

The first week is filled with a complete inability to focus, mood swings (well, as much as Stiles _has_ mood swings, which is to say that he talks either very fast or extremely fast), and Stiles horrifying Derek with how much he eats.

When the Sheriff told Derek to send him the bill for Stiles’ food, the man wasn’t joking. Derek’s never seen someone eat so much.

Derek almost inhibits Stiles’ food intake, just because eating that much food can’t be helping his hyperactivity level, but Stiles is so _skinny_. Sure, it’s all lean muscle and perhaps some lingering childhood softness, but Derek is afraid the kid will vanish if he says, _no, only eat half the pizza_ , instead of letting Stiles eat the whole damn thing. But, Christ does the kid eat a lot.

“Do you ever stop?” Derek says one afternoon when Stiles has raided the kitchen for snacks.

“What?” Stiles says around a mouthful of candy.

Derek sighs, shakes his head, glares, and then steals a few gushers when Stiles is distracted by gummy bears.

>>> 

The second week is both better and worse than the first. Derek chases Stiles around the property relentlessly each day so that he’s too tired to talk like he’s on crack. The ADD doesn’t get much worse, reaching a plateau at a fifteen-minute focus period on homework, but the energy does. Derek figures that if he exhausts Stiles (after sitting next to him and rotating homework every fifteen minutes so that Stiles gets through all of his subjects), Stiles won’t be as annoying.

It works, but Stiles also gets nightmares.

The first two nights Derek ignores it, but by the third night he’s feeling guilty. Derek is supposed to be taking care of Stiles, but what if the nightmares are because Derek said no Adderall?

So the third night Derek hears Stiles whimpering, he’s out of his bed before he consciously makes the decision to get up.

When Derek reaches Stiles’ room, the boy is all flailing limbs and pinched expressions. He’s quiet, which is probably the _only_ time he’s quiet, and Derek realizes he doesn’t really know how to handles this.

“Stiles,” Derek says, arcing closer to the bed, but Stiles doesn’t even pause in his latest attempt to battle the covers off the bed.

“ _Stiles_ ,” he says, and this time he’s close enough to catch an arm before it smacks him in the face.

Stiles pauses, the arm in his grasp going still and his head turns in Derek’s direction, seeking, his nostrils flaring. And this, this is Derek understands.

He leans in towards Stiles, and lets his arm go so that he can cup Stiles’ cheek. “It’s okay,” he says, “it’s okay. Just sleep.”

He stays there until Stiles stops twitching, until his breath evens out and his body relaxes in the bed. Derek could probably stay there all night, just focusing on how their scents merge together in the room, but when Stiles rolls away he tucks the covers over Stiles and leaves.

It’s the last time that Stiles has nightmares.

>>> 

The third week, Stiles evens out. His focus gets better, he stops talking so fast (unless he gets really, _really_ excited) and Derek doesn’t have to tire him out as much.

He thinks things are going well, until Coach Finstock calls to inform him that someone put a skunk in his lacrosse captain’s locker, and that “someone” was probably Stiles.

Derek is not happy.

“It’s not what you think it is,” Stiles says as soon as he sees Derek glaring from his doorway.

Derek stays silent and keeps glaring, because otherwise he’s going to do something stupid like pin Stiles on the bed and fit his teeth to Stiles’ throat.

“Well, okay, it might be, but I had a really good reason.”

This should be good. Derek raises an eyebrow.

“Look, Jackson’s an ass _anyway_ and he keeps trying to act like he’s above everyone else, but that’s not why. He dumped Lydia Martin in front of everyone and she’s been so out of it that she actually deigned to _talk_ to me, and this is the girl that hasn’t noticed me since kindergarten.”

Derek notes that he’ll have to have a _chat_ with Jackson about pack structure (because he’s come to realize that Stiles could be _vicious_ if he wants to, and if Jackson is pushing Stiles around it’s only because Stiles doesn’t feel like pushing back). Then he pushes down his anger at this Lydia girl, both because she doesn’t see what’s in front of her and because she might _start_ to.

“Can I just say,” Stiles continues babbling, “if you ever want someone new in the pack, it should totally be Lydia. Like, she’s so smart that I don’t think she’s ever gotten less than a hundred-ten on _anything_ and she can cut a bitch down like, damn. Anyway, she’s been depressed in that whole, I’m-hiding-the-fact-I-have-feelings-that-are-getting-in-the-way-of-my-plotting way, and I felt bad for her. I’ve never seen her be anything less than perfect.”

“So you stuck a skunk in Jackson’s locker.” Derek isn’t amused. Really, he isn’t.

“…Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” Stiles says.

“Where the hell did you get a skunk from?” Derek says.

“You remember that scent trail you wouldn’t let me follow?” Stiles says. “Well, surprise?”

Derek should probably yell at Stiles, but he figures that, if nothing else, he’s at least taught the kid to hunt.

>>> 

Derek hates to admit it, but the full moon is _fun_.

He and Stiles spend the night playing like pups, rolling around and chasing each other and the deer on the property. After they’ve exhausted themselves, they curl up on the porch and sleep until the morning.

>>> 

What was supposed to be three weeks, tops, has somehow become five and counting. It’s not that Stiles hasn’t improved in the impulse-control department—he’s fine as long as Derek keeps him occupied, and there have been no more skunk instances—but more of the fact that Derek and Stiles have settled into a routine. Since “Alpha” is more of a label of his wolf than anything, Derek doesn’t have as much work as the Sheriff, which means he can schedule meetings when Stiles is in school. That way he has the time to keep Stiles distracted; he’s almost like a puppy, requiring mental and physical activity so that he doesn’t destroy the furniture or mess up the way Derek’s organized his bookshelves.

By this point, _not_ having Stiles trying to walk around his house quietly would be weird. It would be weird to not (possibly on purpose) wait outside the bathroom silently and scare Stiles when he comes out, or glare at Stiles when he tries to turn on the TV before he’s finished his homework, or have surprisingly useful conversations about healthy eating.

It would be weird, because now Derek realizes just how _lifeless_ the house has been since his sister moved out.

Stiles is twitchy and random and awkward, and sometimes he really does irritate the shit out of Derek, but Derek also appreciates how quick and _smart_ Stiles is, how creative he is, how much he cares. One day, Stiles is going to make a great wolf, and an even more amazing man.

Of course, Derek won’t be the one to tell him this, but he thinks Stiles might know anyway.

“You put _ketchup on eggs_ ,” Stiles says, clearly scandalized. “You’re a goddamn _heathen_. Like, were you dropped on your head as a child?”

Then again, maybe not.

But when the Sheriff finally calls Stiles home, Derek pretends that he’s not irrationally feeling like he’s losing his pack.

>>> 

“Man, I’ve been living with you so long I think I’ve forgot what color my walls are,” Stiles says when they’re sitting in Derek’s car, right outside of Stiles’ house.

“It’s been five weeks,” Derek says.

“It’s been forever, you sour wolf. Don’t you know the importance of nostalgia?” Stiles says.

“You’re too young to be feeling nostalgic, get out of my car,” Derek says.

Stiles opens the door without getting out, waiting to make sure that Derek is focused solely on him. When Derek huffs he darts forward, nosing and licking under Derek’s chin. And then he’s gone, bounding up to the house before Derek can even move. It’s rare for any werewolf to act that much like a wolf in human form, let alone Stiles, and when the meaning of the gesture hits Derek, he’s glad that Stiles is already gone because he smiles so hard his cheeks hurt. He’s still smiling when he gets home.

>>> 

The house is empty without Stiles.

Derek starts spending most of his time in the woods.

>>> 

Derek glances at the living room when he comes home, as is his habit nowadays, and then double-takes when he sees Stiles with his books spread across the coffee table. For one horrible moment, Derek thinks he’s gone insane and is hallucinating, and that he’ll start seeing Stiles _everywhere_.

And then he wants to punch himself in the face for being stupid, because there’s no way that he would ever hallucinate those colors in a plaid shirt.

“What are you doing here?” Derek says.

Stiles grins like he hasn’t actually broken into Derek’s house. “I can concentrate better here. Wait,” he says, “you haven’t actually noticed that I’ve been coming here after school?”

“I haven’t been here after school,” Derek points out.

This is, in part, because he’s been avoiding the house. It’s also because Jackson’s parents were both pissed and terrified about the things he may or may not have threatened Jackson with if he didn’t stop bullying other pack members, so he’s been having meetings with them. Sometimes Derek hates being Alpha.

“Yeah, but, can’t you smell when I’m here?” Stiles says.

“Your scent was still over everything after you left,” Derek says. Which is why Derek was avoiding certain rooms, like the living room and Stiles’ room.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, come help me concentrate,” Stiles says.

Derek shrugs his jacket off and puts it on the banister, and then head to Stiles. He flops on the couch next to Stiles so that they’re pressed together, Derek almost slumping onto Stiles to see his homework.

“Did you even read _A Scarlet Letter_?” Derek says.

“ _Yes,_ ” Stiles squawks.

“You spelt Hester Prynne wrong,” Derek says.

“Shut up, her name is ancient or something. How am I supposed to spell it correctly?” Stiles says.

Derek just grins and presses harder against Stiles as Stiles bitches him out. The sun is shining brightly into the room, and the house feels alive.


End file.
